In The Trenches
by kgbspy
Summary: Story about a man in the Terran Civil War, occuring 10 years after the death of the Overmind.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Starcraft and all its characters are the sole property of Blizzard Entertainment. I do not own any part of Blizzard or their products. I am not making any profit off of this story.  
  
  
  
  
In The Trenches  
Prologue  
  
  
Private Mark was one in a million. Literally. As an enlisted man in the Terran People's Unified Army, he was just one man amongst a living sea of men, all fighting for their own cause. Not many actually cared if the Terran sector was reunited. Five years after the fall of the Zerg, the Terran nations began to squabble amongst themselves over territories, rights, mineral claims, etc. Two main factions had emerged: The Terran People's Unified Army(TPUA), under Arcturus Mengsk, and the Union of Libertarian States(ULS). Arcturus decided to enforce his new power, and declared war on the ULS. The war has been going on for two years now. Most men fought simply for the pay, others for the glory, and others because they just wanted to kill someone.   
Mark was in a 6-foot deep trench along with a hundred other marines. He had a special desire to fight - his whole family had been extinguished by a ULS bombardment of their city. Mark was on business leave when that happened. Even though it was the afternoon out on the battlefield, the sky was black. Black from the billowing smoke that choked your lungs and blotted out the sun. You could see missiles speeding through the air above the trenches. Every once in a while, you could see a dropship come and drop fresh soldiers and pick up the dead. The bottom of the trenches were covered. In blood.  
Suddenly, multiple explosions ripped through the trench. Enemy Siege Tanks. There was a Firebat in charge of Mark's unit. He screamed in a trembling voice "You fucking wusses! If you think you're going to survive this day, you're fucking crazy! Try to kill a couple a' people before you're shot! PREPARE FOR AN ASSUALT!" Everyone at that moment checked their rifles. Some people were praying, others crying, others just staring off into oblivion. A tank shell landed about 10 feet from Mark. Several people were instantly splattered everywhere, but one man wasn't so lucky: "AAAAARGGGHHH! OH FUCK! MY FUCKIN' LEG IS GONE! MEDIC! MED . ."bang. Someone had the courage to put him out of his misery. The idiot in front of Mark stuck his head out above the trench in order to see a dropship. Bang. There was a sickening noise as his brains were thrown all over Mark's face. In disgust, he wiped the gray matter from his face. Some of it slipped into his mouth. Instantly he vomited into the bottom of the trench. "Oh shit" Mark said. "Were gonna fuckin' die out here. All alone." And with that, the Firebat shouted "CHARGE!!! FORWARD TO VICTORY!!!!!" Mark had a hunch about how this battle would go. Raising his autorifle, he climbed out of the trench. 


	2. Why?

In The Trenches  
  
Chapter I: Why?  
  
  
  
As Mark climbed out of the trench, shells began falling everywhere. Nobody dared to think; they just ran forth on instinct instilled in them at boot camp. "I've come too far to die now. I will survive" thought Mark to himself. Unfortunately, the number of those who weren't surviving was rising. Private Mark asked himself if the struggle was really worth it.  
  
There was a buddy Mark had known since the beginning of the war. Private Kyle. The two of them were best friends. Suddenly Mark heard a familiar voice. The voice of Kyle. Only this time the voice was horribly twisted with agony and despair. Mark turned around. A canister shot from a Ghost's rifle had blown out Kyle's entire abdominal area. Kyle slowly sank to his knees, covered in blood. His intestines and other organs were slipping out of his gaping, cavernous wound.  
  
"My God! Why the fuck did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this?" Kyle screamed. "Why I am being punished?" He tried to pick up his detached organs and stuff them back into himself. He failed. He just kneeled there, crying in despair. "What am I fighting for anyway? Wh . . Oh my Go . . ." The rest was just wet gurgles. Blood welled up in his mouth, then spilled over onto his chin. His eyes glazed over, then shut for the last time. He fell forward with a splash into the puddle that he had created.  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Screamed Mark. "WHY DID HE HAVE DIE? WHY COULDN'T HAVE BEEN ME INSTEAD?" Bullets were flying past his head. He could see some other men in his unit being shot to pieces. "Why am I fighting in this place? Is this my destiny, to die out here with everybody else?"  
  
The assault failed miserably. Two-thirds of the unit, or approximately 160 soldiers, lay dead in between the opposing trenches. The remaining troops retreated back to their own trench. The air stank of death and dismay. Some friendly wraiths flew overhead, then began to strafe the enemy trenches. Spires of flame erupted throughout the enemy, sending corpses flying. Mark was in his trench with the 80 survivors.  
  
"Where's the corporal?" Mark shouted.  
  
"He got his head blown off 15 minutes ago."  
  
"I see" said Mark. "I say we regroup and try to attack again."  
  
"Why the fuck should we do that for?" someone shouted. "We're just gonna die."  
  
"Because I want revenge against the enemy. You saw how many people they mercilessly slaughtered. Everyone here has been affected by them. I want to pay them back."  
  
"Maybe this guy is right. I think we kill those bastards! But, how are we going to do that without getting killed?"  
  
"We flank their lines, then attack from the rear and side" Mark said. "They wont expect another attack. I hope you guys don't mind if I take charge for a while."  
  
"We're all with you boss. Just don't screw us over or I'll slit your fucking throat."  
  
"Right . . ." Mark said. "Anyway, IT'S TIME TO KICK SOME ASS!"  
  
And with that, the 80 remaining soldiers marched off through the trench toward the side of the enemy trenches. 


End file.
